


Noon Raid

by Minutia_R



Series: The Mountains and the Desert [2]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen, Poetry, Survivors Outside the Known World, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/pseuds/Minutia_R
Summary: The sun shines bright above the dead cityFlaring broken glass, pitted metal scoured by wind and sand, and white, white stone.Day is the time for hunting.





	Noon Raid

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at Kiraly's suggestion for the poetry open mic at Worldcon, and Elleth and Yuuago provided a couple of extra pairs of eyes. Thanks, guys!

The sun shines bright above the dead city  
Flaring broken glass, pitted metal scoured by wind and sand, and white, white stone.  
Day is the time for hunting.  
What lives here does not love the light.  
By nightfall we will be long gone, or dead.

O faceless gods who dwell in sacred stone  
Watch for my brother.  
Tamer, fleet-footed, keen-eyed  
Don’t let him stumble  
Shut the ears of demons to his footfalls  
Keep him safe as he once was  
The first day I washed him, a skinny, slimy thing  
And he found his silence at my mother’s breast

Amal, Makrooha, Shafra check their guns  
With rifle-straps settled on their shoulders, hands on their knives  
They share a wordless look  
And follow Tamer into sun-baked streets  
The dark-faced ones, chance-met  
Unknown three months ago, and now I call them Aunt and Cousins

They used to say:  
Me and my brother against my cousin  
Me and my cousin against the stranger  
Now strange is stranger than it used to be  
And cousins less than kin, but closer  
Refusing willing hands will get you dead

They’re out of sight now.  
In your hands, O gods.  
I feel the weight of your stones  
Eyes closed, I trace your names  
Al Uzza, supreme one, shelter them with your power  
Al Kutbay, grant me sight, let me hear  
The heartbeat of djinn and demon, every loathsome thing  
Quiet, now.  
Quiet.

Beneath Hamza’s hands  
The jeep’s engine coughs to life.  
Succeed or fail, when they return  
(Safe and whole, if the gods will it)  
We will need to run.

Quiet.  
Listen.  
The sound of sick things stirring.  
Eyes closed, I tell Hamza, “North.”  
The jolt of broken roads, the wails of dead-not-dead, and distant rifle shots

Tamer, Amal, Makrooha, Shafra  
Pile into the jeep  
Panting, bloodied, backpacks bulging  
As my hands prepare bandages and precious disinfectant  
Without thought, as they’ve done a thousand times before  
And Hamza drives  
And the demons slow and falter in their pursuit  
And the desert welcomes us, the vast expanses where only small things live

By sunset we will be back at camp  
With Ahmed, Jana, the children and the flocks  
And our new treasures  
Tamer lays them out:  
Wire, ancient silk-cotton, the colors still bright, some tanks of fuel, three rifles  
Amal turns up her nose at those, but the mountain folk will want them  
And we will have grain and oil, a safe fold for the ewes at lambing time.

By moonrise we will be on our way again.  
Night is the time for travel.  
Stay in one place for too long, and you’re dead.

Al Qaum, as your stars  
Guide the souls of sleepers in their journey through the night  
As you once led our ancestors, caravans laden with spices, safely to the coast  
Watch for us  
Guide us now.


End file.
